


now there's a few things we have to burn

by troiing



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troiing/pseuds/troiing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shep and Liara still need to talk about Omega.</p><p>"Right, kids."  Whatever they’re bickering about, Shepard has no interest in getting caught between two powerful biotics named Aria T’loak and Liara T’soni, drunk or sober. “Party’s over.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	now there's a few things we have to burn

**Author's Note:**

> Assumptions: Paragade/Renegon Shepard. Citadel complete. Sacrificed council. Omega complete with neutral ending.
> 
> CW for alcohol
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely Angie (featherxquill) and rock star Charlotte (LTSiha) for being my beta readers on this one!

“Don’t worry, Doctor. You’ve practically tattooed your name all over her.”

“I have no - ”

Tinny. That’s the first thing Shepard thinks when she hears Liara’s voice, disoriented and lingering somewhere between hungover and drunk. Hungover Shepard doesn’t like Liara’s drunk voice. Drunk Shepard feels guilty for disliking anything about Liara.

She groans. The arced markings over Aria T’loak’s eyes pull inward just a little. One side of her mouth is twisted into a close-lipped grin.

“Don’t give me that look, Aria T’loak!”

“Or what?” She says the words slowly, like she’s savoring them. It’s a game, and a dangerous challenge.

Drunk Shepard wonders what in seven hells they’re arguing about. Hungover Shepard just wants to be able to feel her fingers again.

“Right, kids,” Shepard declares, mustering some bravado and a shadow of her sober self as she pushes herself clumsily up, craning her neck around to bring Liara into her line of vision. Whatever they’re bickering about, Shepard has no interest in getting caught between two powerful biotics named Aria T’loak and Liara T’soni, drunk or sober. “Party’s over.”

All of Shepard needs another goddamn drink.

“Shepard!” Liara says, clinging to the beginning of her name a little overlong. Oh yes, Liara is drunk. Maybe not sloppy drunk, but drunk enough.

“One day you’ll have to learn to hold your liquor.” Aria. Casual.

Drunk Shepard wants to prove she _can_ hold her liquor, thanks very much. Hungover Shepard wants to punch Aria in her predictably smirking face.

“Gimme another drink and we’ll find out how well I hold it,” Shepard grouses, pushing herself upright and watching in fascination as the room spins nauseatingly around her. “Wow.”

“ _Honestly_ ,” Liara complains, taking Shepard’s arm. “You couldn’t skip the ryncol just for tonight?”

“With you as a date?” The gleam in Aria’s eyes is unmistakable. “I suspect even a volus would try.”

“ _Why you -_ ”

“Aaaalright.” Shepard practically slams into Liara’s body as she stands up, a clumsy attempt to keep her from charging towards Aria with hell in mind. If Liara’s tone isn’t evidence enough that she’s got a fight on her mind, the flare of her biotics is more than enough. “Let’s go. We’re going to the apartment. I need to pee, and I need another drink.” Nevermind that she could do both of those things here. Liara’s quiet for a moment, seething against her, and Shepard can just picture Aria sitting calmly on the damn couch, looking at them but not looking at them. That’ll only rile Liara up more, she knows. “C’mon. I don’t think I can be responsible for the destruction of much more Citadel property without some consequences,” she grumbles. She tries to push Liara towards the door, but mostly she just ends up leaning into her awkwardly.

The boobs are nice, though.

Ah, hell.

Drunk and hungover Shepard both need to take a good long nap with Liara T’soni’s chest as the pillow. Or, well, anything really, so long as those magnificent breasts are involved. And so long as a biotic showdown in Purgatory _isn’t_.

“ _You_ won’t be responsible for anything.”

Shepard sniffs. Liara actually sounds _accusatory_. Even befuddled as she is, Shepard can tell she’s missed something.

“Mmm, I can see it now,” she says, choosing to put her own ignorance on the back burner for the time being. “Liara T’soni, known companion of Commander Shepard...” She waves her hands in the air in front of her only to have Liara shove them down again. “Aside from saving the citadel from Sovereign and a Cerberus invasion, Shepard is best known for punching reporters, killing the Council, and destroying the most popular restaurant in - ”

“Alright, alright, we get it, Shepard. You’re the center of the universe.” There’s still a flicker of biotic glow around Liara, but she does seem to have calmed down a little despite herself.

Shepard gives her best, proudest, and crookedest smirk. “Absolutely.” Then, giving Liara another little push, she says: “C’mon.”

Shepard can almost _feel_ Aria’s snort of disdainful almost-laughter behind them. “We’ll do it again soon.”

Liara has just begun to move toward the door with Shepard’s guidance, but freezes at the taunt. Shepard gives her another shove. “ _Liara…_ ”

“But she - ” she starts, purple-blue light flaring up around her again.

“Okay, look: whatever is happening here is _so_ not worth it,” Shepard argues, taking Liara’s arm as they approach the steps. Whose idea was it to leave the rails off of these things?

“Shepard - ”

“You can tell me all about it in the taxi.”

Several minutes later, Shepard gazes pointedly at Liara in the backseat of the skycar. The faintest crackle of biotic light shimmers on her skin like a tic. She’s been silent since her grunt of disapproval minutes before.

“Liara...”

“She’s so…” Liara trails off uncertainly.

“Cocky?” Shepard suggests, absently attempting to move the conversation.

“ _Cocky_ ,” Liara agrees without missing a beat. “I should have… We’re going back. I’ll - ”

“Do what, Liara? She’d kill you. We’re going _home_.”

Home. What a strange word. Hell, Shepard wishes the apartment were home. That somewhere, _anywhere_ were home. But her head’s pounding, and Liara’s seething, and there isn’t really a home, not even aboard the _Normandy_ , not really.

“You think so?” Liara snaps. Blue light cracks like a whip.

Shepard reminds herself not to make Liara angry while she’s drunk ever, ever again. 

“I know so.” At Liara’s heavy gust of breath and warning expression, Shepard frowns. “Hey. I wouldn’t take you on missions if you weren’t an invaluable asset on the ground, and I’m pretty sure I don’t wanna fight you myself either. But Aria’s got commando training. _And_ she’s almost a thousand years old, not to mention completely ruthless. She’d tear you apart; I’ve seen her fight.”

“Yes, of course you have,” Liara replies, and something in her tone makes Shepard look at her a little more carefully. Her jaw is uncharacteristically steely. “You’ve seen a great deal of Aria T’loak in action.”

Shepard narrows her eyes. “Yes,” she says deliberately. She realizes just as the syllable slips out that perhaps that wasn’t the right answer. Liara doesn’t offer any clear response, just a vague shrug of her shoulders, but Shepard continues to watch her for a moment. Was that - was that innuendo? But more importantly… “Are you upset about Omega?”

Liara makes a scoffing noise, turning to look dead at Shepard. Her eyes are clear and focused; the use of her biotics, however unconscious or unintentional, has spiked her metabolism, Shepard thinks. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as Shepard in the first place. She wonders briefly if Liara’s head is pounding as badly as her own. “Of course I’m upset about Omega. I told you I was upset about Omega.”

“No. Not this upset.”

“How was I supposed to feel, Shepard? You let Aria drag you off to a base _crawling_ with Cerberus, and you didn’t even take any of your own team with you.” Liara’s clearly been dwelling on this for some time. She hasn’t exactly had anyone to vent to, even if she were the venting type. Among the crew, Shepard’s involvement on Omega is all speculation; some of the team are pretty certain that’s where she disappeared to, but it’s somewhat debated and Shepard hasn’t provided any answers. Liara, of course, knew Shepard was on Omega almost before Cerberus did, and had made that abundantly clear within hours of Shepard's return. 

“ _Goddess_ ,” Liara says, trailing off for a moment as she massages her face. “You didn’t even tell us where you were going! What made you think you could trust her, anyway?”

“I _trust_ her about as far as I can throw her,” Shepard replies automatically. She shrugs a little at Liara’s doubtful expression. “I understand her though. Mostly.” She pauses, heaving a sigh. “Look, I didn’t have much _choice_ , Li. Cerberus running Omega gave them control of the Terminus systems and a foothold in the rest of the galaxy. They had to be ousted.”

“Is that your opinion, or hers?” Liara asks.

She snaps the question, sounding nothing if not serious, but looking at her Shepard thinks that Liara _knows_ it’s a bad question. She too knows that Cerberus running the Terminus systems was dangerous. She just doesn’t like how Shepard went about it.

Really, Shepard can’t blame her, and she’s not of a mind to confront her about it. The ground beneath her feels treacherous enough as it is.

Then again, that could be the hangover talking.

Shepard sighs, scrubbing at her face, but the silence doesn’t last long. The taxi stops, and Shepard numbly keys the appropriate credit transfer into her omni-tool before following Liara towards the apartment. The Strip seems worse than Purgatory, with its lights and sounds, but they navigate the short distance through its crowds without incident.

“Listen, Li. I’m sorry,” Shepard mutters in the lift, knuckles pressed to her forehead. “I know the whole thing wasn’t ideal, and…maybe I should have told you, of all people, but. Nothing we do is ideal. And… God, it was Aria. I may not trust her, but her word’s always been good when I’ve dealt with her. And it had to be done.”

“She crash-landed your ship into the space station,” Liara says in perfect deadpan as Shepard opens the door.

Shepard turns to glance at her, then shakes her head a little, managing a rueful smile. “Yeah.” Shepard doesn’t mention that the crash landing was part of the plan, much less that Aria failed to mention that part of the plan to her. “Hair of the dog that bit you?” 

Liara stares at her mutely for a moment, and at first Shepard thinks she’s being scolded. Then the asari blinks, and Shepard realizes she doesn’t know the phrase. “Uh. More booze? My head’s pounding.”

Liara scoffs a little at the translation, but she’s softer now. Shepard eyes her carefully as Liara shrugs out of her jacket. “No. Thank you.”

“Alright,” Shepard says, but stops halfway to the bar. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not climbing the stairs. You can have the bed, if you want; I’ll take the couch.”

Liara watches her for a moment, then exhales heavily like she’s breathing out weeks worth of tension. “It’s fine, Shepard.”

“It’s alright, Li. I’ve slept in way worse spots,” Shepard assures, not wanting to impose. Not after upsetting her.

“No. No, I’d like…” Liara trails off, then sighs again. “Just come to bed when you’re done.”

Shepard frowns, and pours a shot (more, really), of something dark blue. It burns going down, but maybe it’ll help her sleep. She hopes. She knocks back another for good measure, and the room seems to lurch briefly. Shit.

Liara’s stripped down to an undershirt and a pair of Shepard’s pajama pants when Shepard drags herself into the downstairs bedroom. Things like this remind her how gorgeous the asari actually is. Shepard rubs her knuckles against her forehead, leaning against the door frame for a minute, then takes a step forward.

“Do me a favor, T’soni. Save that view for me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

There’s something on Liara’s mind despite the teasing reply, Shepard can tell. It’s not surprising, but Shepard eyes her thoughtfully as she plops down into bed fully clothed.

“Spill, Liara,” she mutters, rolling onto her side to face the asari.

Liara opens her mouth, then shuts it just as quickly, shaking her head. “When we’re sober. Or something closer.”

Shepard considers arguing, but instead she lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Sure.”

They’re silent for a while, and Shepard’s head is spinning when Liara speaks again.

“I love you,” she says almost dreamily. “Even if you drink ryncol on our date nights.”

Shepard doesn’t manage much more than a snort of laughter in response, but she laughs nevertheless, doing her best to focus her eyes on Liara’s face. “I love you too, T’soni. Even if you pick fights with Aria on our dates.”

 

*****

 

The light’s too bright; Shepard knows this before she bothers to open her eyes. 

She groans, rolling over in bed automatically without giving her body or mind a chance to second-guess the action. Centering herself a little woozily, she presses her hands into the small of her back and bends backwards a bit. A couple of satisfactory pops echo in the too-large room before she’s forced to recover her balance and her bearings.

Remembering Liara, she turns, but the asari shows no sign of waking. She's curled on her side hugging the pillow, brows knit together. 

Coffee, Shepard decides, is a very good idea. Or rather, coffee for herself, tea for Liara. Suddenly feeling very thankful for the previous night's laziness, she rounds the corner to the kitchen to start the brewer and boil water, cursing the wall full of windows and the light streaming through them on the way. Keying a few commands into her omni tool, she browses the morning’s news without much interest. Hackett keeps her updated on what she needs to know; there’s not much use troubling herself with the Citadel’s daily affairs when the missions keep piling up as it is. Still, it never hurts to know.

The kettle and brewer chime at almost the same time, and Shepard returns her attention to them as soon as they do. She drops an infuser-full of Liara’s favorite tea into a cup, fills another with black coffee, and meanders back to the bedroom. Somehow, she manages not to spill anything.

The smell of strong brew must have awakened Liara. She’s sitting up in bed, knees drawn up to her chest, rubbing the sleep from her eyes when Shepard enters.

“Hey,” Shepard says. She’s shocked by the roughness of her voice, and clears her throat uncertainly.

“Shepard,” Liara replies. She’s quiet, gentle, but her voice lacks its usual warmth.

Shepard moves closer, lowering Liara’s cup to the bedside. “You, uh. You were gonna tell me something last night. Or, when we were both sober.”

Liara exhales swiftly, and her lips curve into half of a rueful smile. “You get right to the point,” she says as Shepard lowers herself to the bed.

Head still throbbing from last night’s hangover, Shepard shrugs a little. “I care about you. I’d rather get it out there.” She pauses for a moment, then takes a too-quick sip of the hot coffee. A mistake, she thinks: now she won’t be able to taste anything for a days. “What’s going on, Liara?” she asks, running her tongue gingerly against the roof of her mouth. “You’re not just upset about me going to Omega, are you?” Leaning over, she abandons her own coffee to the bedside.

Liara watches the steam rise from their cups for a moment, then shrugs helplessly. “I always feel like I’m moments away from losing you again. And this time I… I didn’t have any control. I think I’m used to having some of that now, between being the Shadow Broker and going on missions with you, watching your back on the ground. But you just…” Liara trails off, and when her eyes meet Shepard’s again she looks uncertain. “You just left. Even now, I don’t like it. So many things could have happened, Shepard.”

They’re both quiet for a span when Liara stops talking, and Shepard swallows, trying to think of something, anything to say. “I’m sorry, Liara. Just - damn. Aria - ”

“That’s another thing,” Liara interrupts, and although her voice is quiet, Shepard stops immediately to listen. “I keep wondering if anyone else could have convinced you to do something like that. To leave without your team, without telling us where you were going. Goddess, Shepard… Of all people, Aria T’loak?”

Shepard watches Liara uncertainly for a moment. “You sound jealous,” she suggests in a carefully light-hearted tone, though she’s treading as delicately as possible around the subject.

“Should I be?” Liara replies simply, giving Shepard her own uncertain look.

This time, Shepard’s response is immediate. She scoffs lightly, wrinkling her nose. “Aria is _not_ my type.”

“Oh?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah,” Shepard says, attempting to lighten the mood. “I think I’ve got more of a thing for archeologists.”

“Aria and I have certain qualities in common, Shepard,” Liara says flatly, clearly not buying into the jest.

Shepard sighs suddenly, abandoning the attempts at humor. “Liara, you are _nothing_ like Aria.”

“Oh?” Liara replies again, so suddenly Shepard widens her eyes in surprise. “Shepard, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, and I’d do them all over again if I had to. I _let_ Sekat die. I’ve put so many people in harm’s way, and I have so much power at my fingertips… I might start that war, if it wasn’t for you. If times were different - ”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I gave you to Cerberus, Shepard!” Liara replies, obviously frustrated.

Shepard eyes Liara for a moment, gathering herself again. “You did the right thing. At least, I’d like to think so.” Liara is silent, and Shepard manages a small, rueful smile. “Listen, as a commanding officer, I’ve had to make some bad calls. You were there for Virmire. That was a bad call. But if I had to make it again…”

“That’s different, Shepard,” Liara says, pressing a hand against her crests in agitation. “You had to choose.”

Shepard frowns. “A little, yeah. But I don’t…” She pauses for a moment, considering Liara thoughtfully. “I get the feeling this is about you and me. Not really whether you’re a good person or not.”

Liara gives her a sideways look, then lowers her gaze. She’s silent for a span, and Shepard lets it stretch on. Finally, Liara sighs. “I suppose I’m worried about losing you in more ways than one.”

“Li, you’re not gonna…” Shepard trails off, touching Liara’s knee lightly, and the asari meets her gaze with uncertainty.

“You win everyone over, Shepard,” Liara murmurs, shrugging a little, as if she’s trying to indicate that it’s not important. “Everyone... worships you.”

Shepard can’t help but laugh a little. “You mean everyone except Cerberus, and the Reapers, and - ”

“You know what I mean,” Liara mutters.

Shepard doesn’t, actually. Well, she does, but only insomuch that people have pointed it out to her. People trust her intimately, she knows - but she doesn’t really know why, nor does she believe that this indicates any sort of romantic attraction (and she’s fairly certain romantic attraction is what Liara’s suggesting). On the other hand, the confusion between Liara and Kaidan back when they were hunting Saren might be somewhat telling... But really, Shepard thinks, there’s no sense dwelling.

“And Aria,” Shepard says, as if Liara hadn’t interrupted. If Liara is jealous of Aria, she needs to clear the air. Honestly, of all people… “Aria T’loak most definitely does not worship me.”

“Shepard, she took you - ”

“I’m a weapon to her, Li,” Shepard interrupts, waving her hand dismissively and adopting an ironic tone. “A good one. But also an unpredictable and dangerous one. Who she can’t read.” At Liara’s doubtful look, Shepard shrugs. “She thinks I’m _frustrating_.”

Liara sniffs lightly, but Shepard can tell that she’s softening. “She’s right on at least one count,” she admits, glancing away.

Shepard allows another moment of silence, watching Liara closely for signs of upset. Then, leaning forward a little, she places a hand on Liara’s knee again. “ _Hey,_ ” she says cajolingly. “Liara.”

Liara begins to give way to Shepard’s body, but pauses, fingers tangling in the bedding with her body angled back, watching Shepard curiously.

Shepard gives Liara what she hopes is a meaningful look. “I wanna let you in on a secret, huh?” she says quietly, leaning forward a little more in an attempt to guide her down into the bed.

This time, Liara settles back into the bedding with a sigh, and Shepard leans over her, stroking Liara’s cheek with her thumb. Liara shifts, finding a more comfortable position for her crests against the pillows.

“Remember when you first joined us on the Normandy?” asks Shepard quietly. She twists, lowering herself so she can meet Liara’s eyes. The asari’s eyelids flutter and she nods a little. Satisfied, Shepard trails her knuckles along Liara’s neck. “You had a head full of knowledge about a long-dead race and a few mediocre biotic moves,” she says, allowing a little lightness to cut any sting the words might have held. It was only a few years ago, but it feels like centuries. Liara makes a noise of understanding, so Shepard leans forward to nuzzle her jaw briefly. “You were my type then, too. _So._ ” She pauses for a moment, arching a brow at Liara to gauge her reaction. “Get out of my bed and into my shower, soldier. Then back to my ship. We’ve still got a long way to go.”

Liara takes a moment to process the words, and when she cuts her blue eyes sideways to meet Shepard’s after a moment, Shepard summons a lopsided grin and kisses her cheek. Liara’s laugh is little more than a quiet breath, but the jolt of her breast against Shepard’s is more than enough proof of her better humor. She turns her head, surprising Shepard with a quick kiss on her lips.

“Thank you, Commander,” Liara musters, and Shepard’s grin widens at the ghost of a playful tone.

“Any time.”

A moment passes, and Liara clears her throat. “You know, Shepard… You have to move before I can.”

Shepard’s surprise is only half-feigned; she’s lost herself in the warmth radiating from Liara’s body. “Damn,” she says jovially. “You’re right.”

“I’ll be right up. I would like to drink some of that tea,” she suggests, eyeing the two cups at the bedside hopefully.

Honestly, Shepard doesn’t blame her. She’s aching for the rest of her coffee. “Sure.” She moves slowly, loathe to leave the comfort of Liara’s body, and swipes her mug off the nightstand in an act of finality. “When all this is over, the downstairs gets a shower,” she remarks with a gesture towards the half bath. “I don’t care how many credits it takes.”

“Of course.”

Shepard spins to see Liara curled in the bed sipping cautiously at her tea. She gives Shepard a curious look, then smiles shyly, a question in her eye. Liara T’soni, with her wide eyes and her full cheeks and awkward smiles and the long, soft lines of her body, is more than enough to hold Shepard’s attention any day - drunk, sober, or anything in between. Her blue eyes are searching, and Shepard meets them without a thought.

“Shepard?”

“Mm,” Shepard murmurs, taking a quick sip of her coffee. “I was just thinking… God, if I could spend every morning just looking at you.”

Liara looks decidedly like she’s ready to blush, but she clears her throat and takes a pointed sip from her mug. “I’ll be very disappointed if the water isn’t running hot by the time I get up there.”

“ _Well_. We can’t have you disappointed, can we?”

“I'd be a very unpleasant enemy to have.”

“Too right.”


End file.
